Standing Watch
by DeBrabant
Summary: Sunnydale commemorates it's heroes


Standing Watch  
By Danii  
Summary: The day has finally come for one man, but also for the town where he has lived all his life. (sorry to be vague, but it'd take away from it if I told you more)  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I own no one. Nothing.  
Distribution: Take if you want...  
Feedback: Please!!!  
  
And now:  
  
The day had finally come.  
  
Standing on the podium before all of these people, Andrew could hear his heart racing in his chest even though the crowd before him was anything but quiet. All waiting for him, with him. All waiting to see their heroes...  
  
He was so nervous. On the podium before him, his speech lay, scratched out in frantic letters. He hoped he would stick with it, considering the work he'd put into writing it the day before. Actually, he just hoped he stayed coherent.  
  
Andrew's panic, however, was interrupted a moment later by a gentle tugging on his pants leg. Immediately, he looked down to the one sight that could always calm him.  
  
"Hi, Casey..."   
  
"Hi, Daddy..." replied his son, a small smile crossing his face as he looked up to his father and then to the people waiting, "Are you excited?"  
  
"Yeah, little man," he admitted with a slight grin, "Excited, a bit nervous...a whole buncha things..."  
  
"But it's a good thing, right?" Casey asked carefully.  
  
"Yeah, little man, it's a very good thing..." Andrew told him, "A very good thing that's waited a very long time..."  
  
Casey seemed to think this over for a moment, then he looked back up to his father.  
  
"Okay." He said simply as he began to toddle back to his mother, who was sitting only a few feet away, "Good luck, Daddy."  
  
Andrew watched him go, then smiled at his wife as she picked up their little pride and joy. Then she put him her in lap before smiling back and blowing him a kiss for good luck. He blew one back, then looked at his watch.  
  
12:29.  
  
One minute to-  
  
12:30  
  
Okay, Andrew thought with a mental grin, less then a minute till ShowTime.   
  
ShowTime.  
  
Andrew gave the signal, and the small light went on above his head asking for quiet. It took a minute or two, but finally, the entire crowd was silent. In fact, they were too quiet for Andrew's peace of mind; he'd have liked them to make a little noise so that he wasn't the only sound within a mile. But, despite this, despite the nerves, despite all that rode on him, he finally started.  
  
"The days has finally come-"  
  
A cheer rang out.  
  
"Indeed," Andrew went on, simply commenting on the merriment instead of trying to quiet it. He couldn't do that...this was their day too.  
  
"The day has finally come," he repeated, "when we can honor our heroes the way they should be honored. This day has been denied to us for so long. By our own ignorance, by our disbelief, by the disbelief and ridicule of others, and for many other reasons. But we have persevered, and the day has finally come.  
  
"You see, the world brings us many types of heroes. There are the flashy heroes, out for their own glory and enrichment. Thankfully, we haven't had to deal with many of those in our little town."  
  
There was scattered laughs, which bolstered Andrew's confidence.  
  
"Then there are the everyday heroes...the ones that we don't even know are so important. Teachers, police officers, doctors...  
  
"The men and women we celebrate today were this town's everyday heroes, and yet they were so much more. Not every little town can boast that its heroes had saved the entire world more then once. But ours have.  
  
"As you all know from the stories passed onto you from your parents, and their parents before them, our town is not like any other town. We are a town on the mouth of Hell. We are a town of people, but also of demons and vampires. And of heroes. It took us a while to admit this, but now, despite the world's ridicule, we stand up proudly and acknowledge just how unique our home is.  
  
"But for today, we stand up to acknowledge and dedicate something to those we here in Sunnydale affectionately call...the Scooby Gang. Michael, pull off the sheets!"  
  
Michael did as he was told. The sheets flew off of the statues to reveal the very thing he'd been speaking about minutes before. Four figures, sculpted in bronze in a line in front of Sunnydale High School. He pointed to the first.  
  
"There stands Buffy Summers, the longest-lived Slayer in the history of mankind. Clutched in her hands is the stake of her trade, and beside her is the sword of her strength. She did her duty above and beyond the call, and she did it better then any other despite the tremendous trials she was put through. Buffy Summers."  
  
He pointed to the figure closest to him.  
  
"On the other side is Rupert Giles, the greatest Watcher who ever lived. Though he trained his Slayer as best he could, he, more importantly, cared for her like his own flesh and blood. His knowledge and willingness to do what had to be done for the benefit of others makes him as immortal as his charge. In his hand is the book of his knowledge, and at his side is the crossbow...his willingness to fight as well as Watch. Rupert Giles."  
  
Next, Andrew drew attention to the figure next to that one.  
  
"Beside Rupert Giles stands Willow Rosenburg, a mighty Witch and a powerful friend. It was, as you all know, her intelligence and great power that often changed the course of events in favor of the good. She was a friend to the Slayer, and her work saved the world. She also made startling breakthroughs in magick-use that are important today. In her hand is the Witch's pentacle, and beside her are the tomes of her trade. Willow Rosenburg."   
  
Now he pointed to the figure between the Slayer and the Witch.  
  
"The last figure standing here is perhaps the most confusing. He was not Witch, Watcher, nor Slayer, but all of you know him almost as well as I do. He is Alexander Harris. Alexander was but an ordinary man, and yet he fought the darkness with everything he had, including a skill that few knew he possessed. It is his work which keeps our children safe from the vampires till this day.  
  
"Using his success in construction, and later architecture, Alexander used his money and his men to build the very building we stand before in the shape of a cross, to ward off the denizens of the night. Thus, he holds in his hands both a cross and a stake; the cross to commemorate the protection he provided, and the stake to show his fighting spirit that was almost as essential as his wife's."  
  
Now, Andrew took a deep breath.  
  
"There they stand, people of Sunnydale, before our high school. Before the Hellmouth, guarding it in eternity as they guarded it in life. May we always remember their sacrifice. May we always remember their struggle. And may we always remember to fight the good fight as they did..."   
  
As he finished, the breath went out of his body and his head suddenly felt as if it had to be floating at least a foot away from his neck. Shakily, Andrew took the seat next to his wife and pulled her hand into his. She, thank god, gave it a squeeze, for which he decided she should get at least a box of chocolates for.  
  
"Your grandparents would have loved it..." Daphne, his wife, whispered into Andrew's ear as his assistant, deputy mayor David Osbourn gave the announcements Andrew'd been too shaken to even remember.   
  
"I hope so..." Andrew replied nervously.  
  
"Well, Granny would have been complaining that she never used a sword much..."  
  
"I know," Andrew agreed, "But it's symbolic!"  
  
"And," Daphne continued with a smile, "Grandpa would have told you that it was just common sense to make the high school a cross..."  
  
Andrew Harris, mayor of Sunnydale, grinned like a fool.  
  
"Yeah, he would have." He agreed, "But I don't even want to get into what-"  
  
"Leave Granny Will out of this..."  
  
"But-"  
  
Their son, who had climbed from his mother's lap till he was between the two of them, suddenly interrupted the two.  
  
"Mommy?" Casey asked.  
  
"Yes, dear?" Daphne responded, curious as to what her son could want.  
  
"Aren't the statues pretty?" the child asked with the simplicity that only a child could have.  
  
"Yeah, little man," Andrew answered, his own eyes turning to the four figures immortalized in metal, guarding the people of the town and the horrible portal within it, "They're just perfect..."  
  
The End  



End file.
